


forever rain

by taeramisu



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander Hamilton is a Mess, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, M/M, We Die Like Men, alexander is stubborn, but here we are, i didn't proofread this enough, i never thought i would be here writing ff about the founding fathers, ik the summary is sucky but idk what to put pls just read it i beg, me too alex, that's a nice tag tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26539795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taeramisu/pseuds/taeramisu
Summary: “we both got caught in a flash rainstorm, and now we’re stuck hiding under a very cramped bus stop with a leaky roof”oralex meets john and falls in record time
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	forever rain

**Author's Note:**

> hi  
> this took like 2 days to write in between or during classes and at night dsfhkgjfldshg sleep? dk her
> 
> title: forever rain by rm
> 
> enjoy <33

“Don’t forget your umbrella, Alexander.”

Alexander rolls his eyes, pressing his phone against his cheek and shoulder, “It’s not gonna rain.”

“I checked.”

Alexander snorts, “Yeah, and you’re also in London. I don’t think you’re obligated to tell me the weather for _New York_ , Angelica.”

“Alex, I literally have the—” he hears Angelica inhale sharply. “You know what? Fine. When you get caught in the rain, don’t tell me that I told you so.”

He bites the inside of his cheek. “Goodbye, Angelica,” he sings, before he graciously hangs up. 

Alex pulls back the curtain and stares up at the sky. Sure, it’s a little grey, but it’s autumn now. The sky recently has been cloudy and it hasn’t rained... yet.

It’s not like it’s going to, anyway.

He will be fine. 

Alexander shovels his house keys into his pockets, picks up his laptop, and leaves, ignoring the umbrella resting against the wall. 

/

Alexander is totally _not_ fine. 

It turns out Angelica was right. Not only is it raining, but there’s a flash flood warning. He’s one of the only few people left in the coffee shop—in fact he’s the only _customer_ left, the other people in the building being the staff. They’re about to close early—“Sorry man, this storm’s gonna hit directly where I live, I gotta make sure my family’s okay”—which Alex understands. 

He’s got a wife, maybe a few kids at home. It makes sense. 

This wouldn’t be a problem if Alexander had a car and learned how to drive. He’s gotten too dependent on Ubers and rides from Lafayette. 

Lafayette is in France for a month due to his job, and he doesn’t really have any other friends that would be willing to drop him off at his apartment. Alex himself is short on money. He came to the café to get some work done—god bless their free wifi—and drink really cheap espressos. 

Alex didn’t bring a laptop case, or even a bag for all he cares, since he thought he would be fine, that it wouldn’t rain. 

If he gets his laptop wet, he’s basically ruined. That shit was expensive, and to hell if Alex lets it be ruined by some dumb raindrops.

Alexander sighs and takes out his phone, snapping a picture of the window. The rain is pouring down, splattering against the panes. 

He sends it to Angelica. 

-

_[14:28]_

**alexander  
** _[1 image attached]  
_ 😠

 **my dearest, angelica  
** LMAO  
I told you so.   
Did you bring an umbrella, at least?

 **alexander  
** nope

 **my dearest, angelica  
** Alexander.

 **alexander  
** ik stfu

 **my dearest, angelica  
** How are you getting home? You can’t wait out something like that. 

**alexander  
** im gonna book it home babyyyy

 **my dearest, angelica  
** You’re kidding. 

**alexander  
** name’s alex luv x  
but nah  
i’m dead serious  
i’m packing my stuff as we speak  
‘til we meet again

 **my dearest, angelica  
** Alex, no.  
aLEX  
ALEXANDER

-

Alexander downs the rest of his coffee and throws his cup in the trash. He pulls up his hood and holds his laptop close to his chest. 

“Thank you!” he calls out to the cashier, who smiles softly and soon starts packing up his own things. 

Alex takes in a deep breath and opens the door, running head first into the rain. 

The first thing he notices is that the wind is a lot stronger than he thought. It blows him back a few feet, and he barely manages to grasp his laptop. 

He really has nowhere to go. He walked to the café, and from his apartment, that’s roughly a 30 minute walk. He needed the exercise anyway—although Lafayette says he is still too skinny for his liking, and Angelica says he has a hunger-pane frame, whatever _that_ means—as he wanted to build up muscle and tolerance to walking long distances. 

Plus, it’s cheaper and environmentally friendly. 

A car zooms past him and drives directly into a deep puddle. Just to Alex’s luck, the tires form a huge wave and splashes him directly. He barely had enough time to react to at least turn his back to it so his laptop wouldn’t be... soaked. 

_A little too late for that_ , he thinks sourly. 

His laptop is basically ruined. Even _Flex Tape ®_ couldn’t fix that. 

Alexander gives up on trying to make it out of the rain. His clothes are soaked, his laptop’s the equivalent of trying to mop the ocean, and worst of all, Angelica proved him wrong. 

Alex stomps in the puddles like he’s a child and pouts the entire way, gripping his laptop and glaring at all the cars that pass him by. 

One of them slows down when they see him walking, and rolls down their windows. “You good, man?” they ask. 

Alex scowls. “Get lost! I’m fine on my own.”

“...I really wouldn’t, man. It’s dangerous out here.”

“I live nearby, I’m fine! Get lost, Jefferson.”

Jefferson grins wolfishly. “ _Ouch_! Can’t even help out an old friend, now? Do I no longer qualify—”

“I’m not your fucking _damsel in distress_ , Thomas, go the _fuck_ away. _Please_. I’m begging you. I’ll even get down on my hands and knees if it means you’ll leave me alone. I don’t wanna see you.”

Jefferson presses his lips together and nods slowly. “...harsh, Hamilton. I’ll leave. Just wanted to give you a ride, since you look like the love child of a wet cat and a deer caught in headlights.”

“Jefferson,” Alex says lowly, “get the fuck out of my sight.”

“I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” Jefferson says, but he lingers for a bit, looking at Alexander with a look he can’t exactly read. Alex just narrows his eyes, and Jefferson lets out a low laugh, shaking his head and rolling up his window. Alexander glares at his license plate and watches him pull away. 

He flips the bird at Jefferson’s car—although he’s not entirely sure he was able to see it—and starts walking again. 

His feet hurt.

/

Alexander makes it to a bus stop which has to be about 30 minutes later—there are no buses operating since driving in a flash flood is highly not recommended and is very dangerous. 

It was at this time he knew he walked in the opposite direction of where he was supposed to go.

Alexander is down on his luck. 

He sits on the soaking wet bench and sighs heavily. He runs a hand through his hair—it feels like wet spaghetti—and sighs. 

He looks up—blinks a few times when raindrops fall into his eyes due to the leaky roof—and murmurs, “What have I done to you, Mother Nature, to make you so angry?”

He lets his head fall into his lap, and he blinks back angry tears. He’s always been such an angry crier, which bites him in the ass since he’s studying law. Imagine how pathetic he’ll look if he randomly starts angry crying because the opposing team shot back at him. 

Alexander unzips his hoodie and removes his laptop, opening it up and pouring out all the water that managed to collect in all the cracks and crevices. He briefly wonders if rice would be able to suck it all out. 

He’s testing his luck, he knows it, but he pushes the power button in hopes that it’ll turn on, but alas, it doesn’t. He’s met with a black screen, his pathetic reflection staring back at him. 

Alex frowns and slams the screen shut, chewing on his lip. He has no idea how long the rain is going to last and how long he has to sit here, especially when he can’t do anything but stare and look pathetic. 

It’s so... boring. 

Alex tilts his head back and screams, trying his best to avoid the water running down the panels of the bus stop. 

He closes his eyes.

/

When Alex wakes, he’s not alone. 

Which is— _frightening_ , to say the least. He screams so loud, he’s sure all of Brooklyn heard him. 

“Jesus!” Alex shouts, fumbling around blindly for his laptop, holding it tightly to his chest when he finally manages to get a hold of it. 

“S—shit, sorry,” the stranger says. “I just—I got caught in the rain.”

Oh. 

“Oh,” says Alex, “me too.”

The stranger grins—freckles stretching against his tan cheeks. His curls are plastered against his head, and raindrops roll down the sides of his face. 

“You live around here?” the stranger asks, cocking his head to the side. 

“No,” Alex says shortly, turning to face the rain. “I live perhaps an hour away from this... place. I... honestly have no idea where I am. I don’t usually go to this bus stop.”

“Oh? What’re you doing here, then?”

 _He likes asking questions_ , Alex thinks to himself. “I was at a café when the rain hit.”

The stranger eyes his laptop. “Ah,” he says, like he finally gets it. “Does that thing still even work?”

“I hope so,” Alex snaps. “Why’re you asking so many questions?”

The stranger blushes, throwing his hands up in surrender. The red flooding his cheeks makes his freckles stand out. “Shit, man, I was just curious. Sorry if I overstepped a few boundaries.”

Alex just grunts. “You got a name, Freckles?”

Freckles’ eyes widen, mouth agape. “My name?” Alex nods, rolling his eyes. “J—John. John Laurens.”

Alex nods slowly, closing his eyes and letting the name sink in. John’s a nice name—pretty old fashioned if he’s being honest—“Wait,” Alex pauses, his eyes wide. “John Laurens? As in— _the_ John Laurens? The son of _the_ Henry Laurens?!”

John rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “The one and only.”

“You look nothing like your father,” Alex blurts.

John flushes. “Yeah… I… I take after my mother. She was—she was fully Puerto Rican.”

Alex doesn’t miss the way John uses the past tense. “Oh,” he says lightly. “Is she—?”

“Yeah,” John breathes out, running a hand through his hair. “’s all good, though, no need to feel bad. It was a long time ago.”

“I know how you feel. My mom, she—she died while she was holding me. Fucked me up for a while.”

“I know,” says John, but Alex doesn’t get it. “I—never mind.” 

“Anyway,” Alex clears his throat, “the fuck are you doing up here? Shouldn’t you be with _Daddy Laurens_ back in _South Carolina_?” he sneers, adding a southern drawl to his words. 

John’s eyes narrow the slightest bit. “I moved up here at 18. I’m not really in contact with my father anymore.”

“Bullshit,” Alexander snorts. “He still mentions you during his press conferences.”

“It’s not like I can exactly just cut him out of my life, dude, I have younger siblings. I don’t exactly trust them alone with my father. I’m not close with my dad. Never was.”

Alex bites his lip to prevent himself from saying something he might regret. “Alright,” he says instead, “sorry for prying.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to it,” John mutters in response. 

The rain fills their silence. 

“You got a name?” asks John.

Alex blinks. “Fuck. Yeah. Alexander Hamilton.”

John grins. “Hamilton...” he says slowly, like Alex’s name is a poison.

“Yes.” Alex doesn’t like the way John’s eyes light up at the mention of his name.

“Bro, I I know you! I mean, I don’t know your face, but I heard your name! You’re making quite the name for yourself, wouldn’t you say?”

Alex’s heart drums against his chest, but not in a good way. “What do you mean, Laurens?”

“You graduated from Columbia in 2 years, right?”

“...yes.”

John grins, a slight dimple appearing in his left cheek. Alex stares at it for far too long. “That’s impressive, man, I have no idea how you did it. You still in school or...?”

“Yeah,” Alex says breathlessly, “I’m in law school now. I graduate next year.”

“Holy shit,” John murmurs lowly. “And you’re how old?”

“Almost 23.”

John swallows roughly and chokes. “Holy shit. You’re mad young for a lawyer.”

Alex blushes slightly. “I’m not a lawyer _yet_.”

“You’re still crazy young.”

“I came to the states when I was... maybe 16? Columbia accepted me, which I am forever indebted to them for, and then I graduated at 18. And now here I am. Always busy.”

“You write like you’re running out of time, Alexander.” Alex looks up, mouth agape. “I read some of your works when I was younger. You’re crazy talented, dude. And holy fuck, you write so much. How hasn’t your hand fallen off yet?”

Alex kicks a pebble with his shoe. It makes a sad squishy sound. 

“I’m not sure,” he says, and he grins at John. “Thanks for—”

“Alexander,” John blurts, and Alex swallows thickly. 

“John,” he says coolly.

“I—I heard your story. Earlier. About... um. About how you got here.”

Alexander’s eye twitches. “Oh,” he says. 

“Are you—” John inhales sharply, shakes his head like those weren’t the right words, “—are you okay? In this weather?”

Oh. Alexander catches on quickly. 

John pities him. 

“I’m fine,” Alexander hisses, and he scoots as close as he can to the glass wall of the bus stop, away from John. The glass is cold and it pierces him through his clothes. “I don’t want your _pity_ , Laurens.”

He wants to go home. 

John’s face falls. “I’m not—I’m not trying to pity you, Alexander.”

“You are. It’s been years since the—” he chokes on his words, and he hates the way Laurens looks at him after that, concerned, like he actually gives a shit about some fucking immigrant from the Caribbean. “—since the _hurricane_ , it’s fine, _I’m_ fine, I’m over it.”

They both know that’s a lie. Alexander has night terrors every night about his experience. It’s a reason why he doesn’t sleep as much as he should. 

He can’t handle the dreams. 

Lightning strikes, lighting up the sky, thunder following soon after. They both flinch at the loud crack, and Alex pulls his hoodie a little bit closer to his body. 

It’s a surprise that Alexander has managed to stay sane for this long when it’s pouring out, because all what he can think about is being back home in Nevis, experiencing the hurricane, boarding the ship to get him the hell out of here and into New York, the—

His head’s spinning. 

“Alex—”

“You’re just like your father, Laurens, you know that? You don’t care at all. You pretend like you do, but you actually don’t, you’re so good at mani—”

“Alexander, please,” John says, and Alexander drops his hands and closes his mouth. “I’m nothing like my father. Me and him, we don’t have the same viewpoints. Don’t say we’re the same just because I’m related to him. All what he is to me, is my dad. That’s it.”

“...alright,” Alex says, and he lets the topic drop. “Does your phone work?”

“It died.”

“Sweet. How am I supposed to get home?”

John looks at him. “Hamilton...” he says slowly. Alex looks up. “I live about 10 minutes away from here. I could take you back to my place, let you shower, give you a change of clothes, try to fix your laptop...” they both eye Alex’s sad excuse of a laptop and chuckle. “Is that okay with you?”

“How am I gonna get home afterwards, Laurens...”

“I’ll give you some money and send you an Uber once everything clears. When that’ll be, I’m not sure. But, what I am sure of, is that the longer we stay here, the more soaked we’ll be, and the more prone we’ll be to sicknesses. I’m not down to get sick, Alex, so I suggest that we hurry.”

Alexander smiles softly. “By all means, lead the way.”

/

“You having fun there, Alexander?” John snickers. 

Alexander, to his luck, tripped into a really huge and deep puddle, effectively dropping his laptop and soiling his clothes. 

He’s beyond soaked now. 

Alex glares sharply at John. “Yeah, having a blast,” he hisses, wringing the water out of his jeans. 

John smiles softly. “You can take a shower at my place.” He blinks. “Yo, do you need a hair tie?”

Alex looks up. “What?”

“You don’t have to take the—”

“I don’t care about the shower, I’m fine with it, you smell nice anyway, what did you say after that?”

John blinks again, long and slow. “I asked if you needed a hair tie.”

Alex runs a hand through his wet and limp noodle hair. “Gee, I wonder what made you ask that.”

John just chuckles softly, taking one of the many hair ties off his wrist and passing it to Alexander, who puts his hair up in a sad, wet messy bun. “Your hair’s pretty long, man, how long has it been since you cut it?”

Alexander looks up at the sky and blinks a couple times when rain falls into his eyes. “I dunno, couple years maybe? Can’t really afford to get a haircut...”

“I know how that feels,” John says, falling into step with Alexander. “I grew my hair out for a couple years. It went all the way down to my—like the back of my shoulder? Not sure. Pretty long, though. When I went back home for the holidays, my dad _hated_ it. He demanded I cut it. My siblings liked it though, so I guess that’s all that really mattered.”

Alexander just stares at him. John chuckles nervously. “You cut it anyway.”

John blushes slightly, and his hand instinctively reaches up to touch the back of his hair. “I did,” he says quietly. “Maybe a year ago? Split ends... wasn’t fun.”

“Ah,” hums Alex, “I don’t know if I want to cut my hair or not.”

“Up to you, man,” John says lightly, “I think your hair makes you look scrappy.”

“That’s not—that’s not _good_ , John. You think I look _disorganized_?”

John’s eyes widen. “Oh! Really? Holy shit, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant—yeah you look a little disorganized and untidy, but it suits you! Your whole disheveled look is—it suits you, don’t worry about it.” John turns his back to Alexander and chews on his lip. “I should just stop talking...”

“Laurens,” Alex murmurs. John turns his head and grins lopsidedly. “The longer you stand here in the rain, the more wet we’ll get.” He pauses, hoping John will get the message. 

He does. “Shit, yeah, sorry! I forgot I was taking you back to my place. Don’t worry, we’re almost there. Maybe like... maybe 10 minutes left. You good?”

“I’m good, John, I’m just getting cold.”

John peels his windbreaker off and drapes it over Alex, who’s swallowed in the poor thing. It’s wet and cold, and doesn’t do much at keeping him warm, but he appreciates the effort anyway. John’s trying his best.

“Good?”

Alex hums, and lets John lead the way. 

Sometimes their hands will brush. Neither of them really move away. 

/

John’s apartment is small, but very modern. John takes off his shoes and slips into house slippers, and Alex neatly takes off his own shoes and places them next to John’s. 

He walks on his toes to prevent a lot of water from seeping out from his socks every time he takes a step.

“I’ll throw them in the washer and dryer while you’re in the shower,” John chirps, setting things up. He turns on the TV. “You can just chill in here for a bit while I go pick out some clothes for you. We’re about the same size, yeah?”

Alex looks at John up and down. John shifts uncomfortably while he does so, and when Alex looks up, John has a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. “Not sure,” Alex says after a while. “You’re a bit... taller than me.”

“Oh,” John says lightly. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. Bathroom is down the hall, to your right. I’ll put your clothes on the bathroom counter. Towels are in the bathroom closet.”

Alexander just stares at him for a bit. He blinks. “Yes, sorry. I’ll be—I’ll be on my way—no, I am on my way,” he corrects. “God, my brain isn’t working today.”

John clicks his tongue. “I gotchu man, don’t sweat it. Take your time. Just let me know when you’re in so I can wash your clothes.”

“Oh,” says Alex, “no, you can just—drying them is just fine, you don’t have to—”

“Alexander,” John says firmly, “You fell, remember? Your clothes are all muddy. Even if you didn’t fall, I was gonna wash them regardless.”

“I can’t fight you on this, can I...” Alex murmurs, mainly to himself, but he looks up at John at the end, who only grins. 

“Nope! So get moving.”

“You gonna kiss me and smack me on my ass now?” Alex blurts, a devilish grin on his lips. 

John sputters. “Fuckin’ _pardon_?!”

Not a good reaction. Noted. John? Probably not a raging homosexual. That’s cool.

“Joking. I’ll be quick.”

John just shakes his hand lightly, running a hand through his hair. Alex hears him blow out a breath. 

Alex leans his head down, closing his eyes and smiling softly. 

/

Alexander comes out of the shower smelling exactly like John. 

Which isn’t—it’s not a bad smell, John smells clean and like mangos, and Alex wouldn’t mind smelling John or smelling _like_ John if it was the last thing he had to smell for the rest of his life. 

Alexander picks his clothes off the toilet seat and dresses into them, laughing a bit when the sweatpants go past his toes and the sweatshirt seems to swallow him whole. 

He’s drowning in John’s clothes. 

Alex rolls the cuffs of the sweatpants to his ankles so he won’t trip, but he leaves the sweatshirt alone. He looks—small, but it’s not bad. 

Alexander drops the towel in the hamper and walks back into John’s living room, flopping on the couch. 

John’s scrolling on Instagram. “Welcome back,” he says, not looking up from his phone. His back’s turned towards Alex.

“Your water pressure is immaculate,” Alex marvels, “I didn’t even know water could come out that strong.”

John puts his phone down and leans his head back to look at Alex. He looks a little cross-eyed. “Really?”

Alex nods. “Back home—both on the island and at my place—the water stream isn’t that strong. It was like a massage in your shower.” He leans closer into John’s face, and grins like a cheshire cat. “Can I move in with you?”

Alex likes the way John turns pink. “Um—”

“Great!” Alex grins, “I’ll pack my bags and be on your doorstep later tonight.”

“Alexander—”

“Relax, John, I’m only joking. Gee, it’s like I can never joke around with you.” He starts speaking fast, not letting John get a word in. 

He’s a bit scared of what John will say. 

“Al—”

“I can’t even really afford my own rent, and god knows how much _your_ rent is...” Alex looks up and smiles brightly, resting his chin on the palm of his hand. “Your soap smells nice.”

“Oh.” Alexander’s eyes follow John as he slowly sits up, runs a hand through his hair. “Um. Thank you.”

They stare at each other awkwardly for an uncomfortable amount of time, before John clears his throat and gets off the couch. “Your clothes should be done in about 20 minutes. Do you—do you want anything to drink in the meantime? I got... coffee... tea... um, I think I got juice in the fridge—”

“I’m fine, thanks,” Alex says lightly. 

“‘Course,” John swallows thickly. “Alexander—”

“John,” Alex blurts, looking up at John. He’s not close enough to the point where Alex can see all of his freckles, but he’s close enough to notice the red on his cheeks. “Don’t let this be the last time I see you.”

John’s eyes widen and his lips part. 

Alex shakes his head. “I know, I’m not one for subtlety. But—” he laughs weakly. “I just—I know I was a dick to you earlier, and I’m sorry for that, but I—” he breaks off, “—the longer I spend with you, the more I realize you’re actually not that bad of a guy.”

John opens his mouth, but closes it when he realizes Alexander still isn’t done talking. 

“And besides,” Alex says, a bit short breathed, “I gotta repay you for all of your hospitalities towards me.”

John’s silent for a while. A bit longer than necessary, but Alex gets it. He did just lay a bunch of words onto him, and he’s not even sure John got half of it. 

“I—”

Alex’s phone rings. Both of their heads turn towards it, resting in the pot of uncooked rice. 

“It works,” John blows out a breath. 

“Can’t say the same thing about my laptop,” mutters Alex. He looks back at John. “I’m gonna—I’m gonna take this.”

“I’ll leave you to it...”

Alexander watches John leave the room. He feels a bit empty. 

He swipes _ACCEPT CALL_ without even looking at the Caller ID. “Hello?”

“Boo.”

Alex bites the inside of his cheek. “Laf.”

“Alexander!” Alex can practically hear Lafayette’s grin through the phone. “ _Mon ami_ , how are you? It feels like I haven’t talked to you since forever!”

“It’s been a week, man.”

Lafayette groans dramatically. “ _Oui_ , forever.”

Alexander rolls his eyes, even though he knows Lafayette can’t see him. “What do you need?”

“I can’t check in on my good friend anymore? I’m hurt, Alexander.”

“Mh,” Alex hums. 

“...am I perhaps calling at a wrong time?”

Alexander presses his phone to his shoulder and stares off into the distance. He cannot see John. “...I suppose,” he says eventually. 

“Ah,” Lafayette sighs in understanding. “My bad, Alex. Go get that—uh, how you say?— _dick_.”

Alexander chokes and hangs up the phone, burying his face in his hands. “Jesus Christ,” he murmurs to himself. 

Alex puts his phone back in the rice and stares. 

/

Alex is sitting on John’s couch when John emerges with a bundle of clothes. 

“‘s all done,” he says, huffing out a breath. “Get dressed whenever man, no rush.”

“Oh, I—” Alex looks down at himself, then looks back up. “Do I—do I _give_ you back your boxers or—”

“Oh!” John flushes. “Holy—nah, keep them. Bro... things.”

Alex cracks a smile. “Yeah... bro... things.” He presses his lips together and stares down at his toes, wriggling them one by one. “”Hey, John?” John cracks a smile. “Do you mind if I...”

John almost looks hopeful. “Yes...?”

“Can I—”

John looks on in anticipation. 

Alexander pauses. What is he doing? Whatever he’s doing doesn’t seem like a good idea. Alex’s thoughts usually run a million miles per minute, and he doesn’t think before he does anything. He just—he does it. Act now, think later. 

Does Alexander want to keep seeing John? Sure. John’s a nice guy. He’s nothing like Alex originally thought he was, and he’s actually a lot of fun to be around. 

Is this only going to be a one side thing? John lives in Brooklyn, Alex lives in Manhattan. Granted, it’s not that far of a travel, only about 30 minutes, but is it even worth it?

John knows _so much_ about him, but Alex doesn’t even know a lot about John. 

Alex craves. 

Craves to learn more, craves to see John, have the pleasures of counting his freckles each and every morning, smell his aftershave, craves to taste him—

“I want to see you again.”

John’s eyelashes flutter. “Y-yeah? You’d—you’d really want that?”

Alex inhales, steps closer to John. He tests the waters. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “I would.”

“Alexander,” John groans lowly, and Alex lets out a shaky breath. 

“Laurens...” he gasps. 

John steps closer, barely any space in between them. He tilts Alex’s chin until he’s forced to look into John’s eyes. Alex’s eyes travel over John’s freckles and he grins. “So many...”

“Lex...” John parts Alex’s lips with his thumb. Alexander’s eyes close and he breathes in sharply. “Can I—”

“ _Please_ ,” Alex rushes out, and he pushes forward on tippy toes and kisses John. 

It’s a short lived kiss, but it was pretty much the best kiss Alex has ever had. John has really soft lips, tastes like strawberry lemonade lip balm.

John pulls back and Alex falls back on his heels. “You do this with everyone you meet?” John laughs, holding Alexander close. “You really do smell like my bathroom. ‘s weird.”

Alex laughs and curls his toes. “I was being serious when I said that earlier.”

“Said what earlier?”

“ _John_ ,” Alex laughs nervously. 

“I remember, Alex, don’t sweat. I’d like to see more of you too.” John smiles a specific way at Alex, showing the dimple in his left cheek. 

Alex, having no self control, he comes back closer to John and pecks the dimple, before pressing his lips together and stepping away. 

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly, “I’ve just—some part of me just really wanted to do that since the moment I realized you even had a dimple.”

John’s bright red. “You’ve wanted to kiss me for a while then, yeah?”

Alex nods. “We—I just realized we did this whole thing backwards.”

John cocks his head to the side. “Whattya mean?”

“You didn’t ask me on a date first before you kissed me.”

“Ah,” John smirks, and he snakes his arm around Alex’s waist. “Allow me to do this properly then.”

“Oh,” Alex gasps. 

“Alexander Hamilton,” he says, “will you go on a date with me?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Alex mutters. 

“Perhaps,” John chews on his lip. “Is that a yes?”

“...yes,” and Alex closes his eyes, letting himself fall in the moment. 

John grins, and Alex realizes he’s a fool for falling this quickly. “He said yes, everyone!” John exclaims, like he just proposed to him in front of everyone. He looks back at Alex and winks. “I can die a happy man now.”

“Yeah,” Alex agrees, “Yeah, me too.”

/

Alexander leaves John’s apartment a few hours later, when the rain stopped and the roads cleared. 

He leaves with John’s number in his phone and a giddy smile on his face. 

(It doesn’t rain on their first date, but they happily spend more rainy days together after.)

  
  


**_fin_ **

**Author's Note:**

> ngl i got lazy w the ending  
> i had an idea in the beginning and then i just. lost it lmao n it rlly shows
> 
> when hamilton first came out on disney+ my ass rlly woke up at 7 am to go watch it even tho i told myself i was out of my hamilton phase  
> but i still knew every word even after 2 yrs  
> then i cried  
> and then watched it again  
> and listened to the soundtrack a billion more times  
> and now here i am, writing ff abt the founding fathers
> 
> god bless america
> 
> nevertheless i hoped u enjoyed it <3


End file.
